by Deanna Chase
It had been a lousy end to a long day. I wasn’t a violent person. When munching on meat, I always use a fork and proper table etiquette is always followed, unlike some werewolves I knew. Heck, my high school classmates named me Miss Congeniality. Well, it was never official, because of the little incident with the principal, but whatever. Point is, I contained my anger with the drama queen.
I never told Lily Friedman I was perfect at my job. What did she expect from me—everlasting love? I reached down and salvaged the broken turtle and frog from the floor and placed them ever so gently back on the shelf. How she had managed to behead them with one clean sweep of her handbag, I’d never know. The poor maimed things would have to wait on the shelf for my return. I’d bring glue in the morning, but at that moment, I longed for nothing more than a relaxing bath and a glass of wine.
My tired muscles breathed a sigh of relief as I made my way out of the office and up the stairs. I didn’t have a long commute home—I lived on the second floor with my best friend of twelve years, Jennifer Matthews. The narrow staircase leading to my apartment had a claustrophobic feel and a persistent musty smell. The odor was faintly akin to rotten bananas, but it had been ages since I’d eaten a banana. Other than the smell from hell that wouldn’t go away, I loved my home. At the top of the stairs, I turned left, then reached for the knob. The door burst open and I fell flat on my face with a thud.
“Ugh. What the…?”
“I was coming to find you. You have got to have a look at this. Hot guy alert. I mean H. O. T. Hot.”
“Give me a second while I retrieve my teeth from the hardwood floor. Then I’ll check out the ‘hot’ guy.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” She turned her attention my way. “You still have all your teeth. Wait. Smile for me.”
I lifted an eyebrow, but couldn’t keep myself from smiling at my roommate, the screwball.
“See? All your teeth are still attached. Now get over here and check him out.”
Jennifer slid to the window, feet stuffed into her bunny slippers. She’d already traded her work clothing for sweatpants and a t-shirt. The sun shone across her mass of shoulder-length blond hair. With her long legs and gorgeous face, she looked like a model even in sweats.
Grabbing the doorknob of the still open door, I pulled my way up from the floor. “Thanks for the hand.” She ignored my sarcastic comment, and I took my time getting over to the window, because I knew it would get Jennifer’s feathers ruffled.
“Sure, take your time. You’ll be sorry, though, when you see what I’m looking at.”
“Uh-huh. I’ll be the judge of that.” I ambled over to Jennifer while she ogled the poor guy out the back window of our living room. “Whoa. For once you actually weren’t kidding.” I stopped in my tracks, then leaned close to the window.
“What do you mean, ‘for once’?”
“Admit it. Your taste in men is questionable.”
“Give me one example, please.” Jennifer jutted a hip and placed her hand squarely on it.
“The guy at the grocery store last week.”
“I thought he was adorable.”
“Sure. If you like trolls.”
She rolled her eyes and said, “I like guys shorter than me.”
I laughed and squeezed her shoulders. “Fair enough.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off the guy outside.
“He’s perfection,” Jennifer said.
Hiding behind the silk curtain, I watched as he ran his hand through his short blond hair.
“I do love the tousled look,” I whispered.
A U-Haul truck full of boxes and furniture was parked next to the curb. He grabbed a box from the back of the truck and turned toward the building, muscles flexing as he carried it across the courtyard. We stood in silence when he disappeared around the corner. After a minute, he returned. His chiseled features made my heart go pitty-pat. Six feet tall with broad shoulders—I hadn’t seen a man like him since…well, never. Not in person at least. Only on television or the cover of a romance novel.
“What color do you think his eyes are?” Jennifer whispered dreamily. I knew where her thoughts were.
“Brown, maybe? I don’t know—he’s too far away. Why don’t you go down there and find out?” I flashed her a big grin.
“If I weren’t dating Todd I would. Believe me, I would.” Ah, Todd Christian.
“Six years and I still don’t have a ring,” she mumbled, then let out a sigh.
Touchy subject. He still wasn’t ready to commit. He had issues, but who was I to point fingers? I didn’t even have a boyfriend.
“You go, Miss Matchmaker. Do your job.”
“My job does not involve flirting with strangers.”
“It should,” she whispered.
“I heard that. Look, it’s complicated, you know that.”
When I was fourteen, my mother sat me down and explained the curse. The Cruz curse. As the story goes, the youngest daughter of the Cruz name was destined to live a lonely life, never to find true love. A gypsy witch bestowed the punishment upon my ancestors for becoming involved in the werewolf world. She was a meddlesome bitch, to say the least, and thought it a sin to be involved with werewolves in any form. It wasn’t as if my ancestors chose the wolfy lifestyle.
I know, I know—it sounded crazy to me too when I first got wind of the wild tale. To be perfectly honest, I hadn’t believed the legend for a long time. Not a word of it. However, when my twenty-sixth birthday rolled around, and not one prospect of true love had come my way, I started to believe. How could I not? As if the fate of my family being werewolves wasn’t enough, I received a curse to boot. Lucky me.
“Yeah, yeah. The curse, I remember. I think the only reason it’s complicated is because you let the werewolf thing upset you too much.”
“You know the same as I do that in all my years of dating, I’ve never gotten past the third date with a man.”
“That’s not true.”
“Okay, other than the year I dated Bruce Taylor, but that was probably a fluke. It’s the curse, I tell ya. It has to be. What other explanation is there?”
“Find a werewolf to date and be done with it.”
“That’s easier said than done, and no amount of dating will work for me. Werewolves, humans—it doesn’t matter.” I waved my hand. “I’ve given up all hope. Besides, the whole werewolf thing is kind of a big deal.” My gaze wandered down to the magnificent piece of yummy on the sidewalk below.
Jennifer leaned closer to the window. She was practically panting. “I think he’s moving in. He’s carrying boxes into the office next to us. This could be interesting.” She placed her hands on the window as if reaching out to touch him.
Figuring there was no point in gawking, I’d slipped into the kitchen. As I stuffed an Oreo in my mouth with one hand (the beef jerky I’d munched on for lunch had not been enough), I grabbed a bottle of wine from the small rack above the cabinet with the other, then poured the red liquid into a glass.
Jennifer screeched from the other room, “Wait. What the hell? Is that Lily pacing the sidewalk? Is she…picketing you?”
The glass slipped from my grasp and shattered on the hard tile floor. Damn.
“Wait…what? Did you say Lily is outside? I’m praying I misunderstood. Please tell me I heard incorrectly.”
“You heard me. Lily’s out there. The hot guy is staring at her. She’s waving the sign frantically at him. How embarrassing for you.” Jennifer sounded a little too excited with her play-by-play.
Shards of glass littered the floor. I eased around the broken mess and dashed for the window to witness the debacle with my own eyes.
“She has a friggin’ sign? This day keeps getting better. Stupid me, I thought the worst was over.” The throbbing in my temples returned.
“Why, may I ask, is Lily marching up and down the sidewalk with a ginormous sign that says, Get a Mate Is a Fake’ to begin with? What the heck happened? She was singing your prais
es just last week.” Jennifer turned to me and raised a carefully tweezed eyebrow.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. She blames me because the guy I fixed her up with doesn’t love her. I can’t help it if he likes real lime in his beer.”
Jennifer scrunched both eyebrows. I didn’t feel up to explaining how a lime debate had caused a rift between Lily and her honey. I needed wine. Lots of wine. Then I might move on to something stronger. Whiskey might do the trick. Perhaps a little intravenous therapy of hard liquor was needed. Thankfully, Jennifer didn’t want to hear the lime story. Or if she did, she didn’t push for details.
“How long had they dated?”
“Two weeks.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I wish I were. I feel bad for her. Well, kind of bad, if she wasn’t such a crazy-ass.”
“What’s so special about this Martin guy, anyway?” Jennifer crossed her arms.
“Nothing really.”
“Then why’d you fix them up?”
“They were a good match. That’s all I’m saying.”
“What does Martin do for a living?”
“He’s an accountant. Smart enough guy. Really nice car. Not particularly handsome, but not ugly.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to ignore her, go back into the kitchen, clean up the mess on the floor and pour myself a glass of wine. I want to erase Lily from my memory.” I turned away from the window and headed to the broken disaster. I’d seen enough of Lily for one day.
As I poured my glass of chardonnay and tried to forget my were-soul mate potential lawsuit, the buzzer at the main door of the office blared through the apartment.
“Why’d you install that god-awful bell again?” Jennifer covered her ears.
“I’m a business-savvy kinda gal.” I grinned. “Having a doorbell in the foyer makes it easy if someone needs me for pressing reasons.”
“Yeah, ’cause that happens so often.”
“Okay, granted, I might not appear savvy with Lily protesting me at the moment, but a girl can dream, right?”
“I can’t recall you’ve ever gotten an urgent call after six at night.”
“I don’t feel the need to offer emergency dating assistance.” The buzzer wailed again and I covered my ears. When it finally stopped, I continued, “But the vampires need nighttime appointments, so occasionally they gave me a ring.” I matched up all types of lonely paranormals. My specialty slanted toward fixing up werewolves. Humans too, although they weren’t privy to info about the paranormal folk. “You’re never here to hear it ring.”
“Right, right, right, right.”
Jennifer popped her head around the corner and whispered, “Do you think it’s her?” As if being quiet would make the buzzer mysteriously cease.
“Most definitely. I might have to call the police.”
“I can’t believe she’s that upset. I mean, no wonder he doesn’t love her.” She snorted.
“She’s driving me bonkers. I think I might have to move. Leave the country even.”
“I’ll deal with her.” Jennifer stalked to the door.
“You’d do that for me? You’re so thoughtful. Now I remember why you’re my best friend.” I sipped my wine. “Go easy on her, will you? After all, she does have a broken heart.” All right, so I was a softie. Even after all Lily had put me through, I felt bad for her.
Jennifer huffed and marched out the front door like a soldier ready for battle. I plopped down on the sofa, closed my eyes and leaned back onto the plush cushion, trying to keep nasty thoughts of Lily to a minimum. The door opening woke me from the light doze I’d slipped into, but I didn’t open my eyes.
“I hope you got rid of her. Please tell me she didn’t grow fur and turn into a werewolf while you were talking to her.”
“Um. Rylie?”
“Tell her to go away. Tell her to treat those paws of hers to a manicure.” I groaned and pressed my eyelids tighter together. The wine eased the tension from my shoulders. I took another gulp from my glass.
“Rylie? Oh, Rylie. Special delivery for you.” Jennifer had a tendency to sing her words.
I cracked open one eye and proceeded to spit wine all over myself and the sofa.
“This is Jack.” Jennifer had a huge smile plastered across her face.
Chapter 2
How to Date a Werewolf Rule # 2:
Beef jerky is not an appropriate dinner option.
Poised in the doorway like a model on the cover of Men’s Vogue was the guy we had shamelessly ogled mere minutes earlier. Technically, Jennifer ogled more than I did. But in an instant, my own primal instinct took over. Or maybe it was just hormones and lack of sex. My body came alive as I took in every inch of his appearance. I tingled in all the right places.
His intoxicating aroma whirled around the room, a mix of patchouli and soap. The scent seemed to reach out, as if with imaginary arms, drawing me closer to him. From the expression on Jennifer’s face, it had a similar effect on her.
He gazed at me—a long, seductive gaze—and I experienced a rush. I stared at him as if he were a piece of meat, but not for the same reasons I ogled steak. Yes, he was a fine specimen. But why was he standing in my apartment? Had he seen us from outside? I prayed he hadn’t. Maybe he came up to tell us to stop staring at him. How rude were we? Oh God, maybe he’d heard my comments about Lily turning into a werewolf. He would think I was a nutcase.
He cast a glance from me to Jennifer and then back at me. “This envelope was propped up against the door to the office downstairs.” He held up the parcel. “It was marked urgent, so I thought I’d ring the buzzer and see if anyone was in.”
“Um. Yes. We’re in. I mean, I’m in. I’m here.” I chuckled and fidgeted with the corner of my blouse.
Wow, wasn’t I a smooth operator? Maybe it wasn’t a curse that was my problem, but my inability to speak coherently to members of the opposite sex when they looked as smokin’ hot as he did.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you. I thought I’d committed a crime the way she came after me.” Jack chuckled and pointed at Jennifer.
She turned a bright shade of scarlet and said, “We thought you were someone else.”
“Did you think I was the lady with the sign?” He inclined his head toward the window.
Had he managed to read the sign with her waving it around? I prayed he hadn’t.
Jennifer continued to blush and flutter her eyelashes at him. “Yes, perhaps.” She tilted her head and shuffled a foot. She’d be embarrassed when she remembered Todd, her adoring non-committal boyfriend. Maybe she wanted to replace him. Wait a minute. What did I care, anyway? Love was not in the cards for me.
“Anyway, here’s the envelope.”
My gaze tracked the full length of his lean, muscular arm as he held the parcel out. The desire to reach out and touch, lick, sniff, or nibble his arm nearly overwhelmed me. It was so smooth and tanned. One stroke was all I needed. What had gotten into me? Why was I drooling over a complete stranger? Like a dog slobbering over a bone. I needed to snap out of my lust-induced fog immediately before I embarrassed myself. I grasped the envelope and looked down to avoid his sparkling blue eyes. They were as clear as the summer sky. Not that I’d noticed.
The white padded envelope had Cruz scribbled across the front in black marker. Whoever wrote the letters must have been in a hurry because the writing was sloppy.
“My name is Jack Chandler, by the way.” He held out his hand and my stomach flip-flopped. I shook his hand, and I won’t lie, my body tingled. No joke. His touch was tender. I had a feeling he knew how to treat a lady. After all, I was a matchmaker—it was my job to read people.
“I’m Rylie Cruz. I own Get a Mate.” I felt heat rise in my cheeks.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rylie.” His gaze held mine. I wanted to say the pleasure was all mine, but I was not nearly bold enough for such a comment. Not to a handso
me stranger. Why could I play Cupid for everyone but myself?
“Aren’t you going to open the envelope?” Jennifer interrupted my trance, and I released his hand.
Jack parted his lips and looked as if he wanted to speak—probably to say goodbye. I wasn’t ready for him to disappear yet. I wanted to know what he was doing. Where he came from and why he was here. Was he really moving in? Please God, let him be moving in.
“This is my impatient roommate, Jennifer Matthews.”
“Pleased to meet you.” She grinned like a Cheshire cat and twisted a blond curl around her finger.
“Likewise.” He nodded. If he’d had a cowboy hat, he would have tipped it to her. He kind of had a rugged cowboy vibe going on. Jack wasn’t a cowboy, though—I guessed that much.
I suppose he could’ve been, but he wasn’t wearing boots. My interest mounted and I couldn’t wait to find out exactly who he was.
I fumbled with the envelope and said, “Are you moving in next door?” I slid my finger along the seal and glanced up at him, waiting for an answer. Please let the boxes he carried in be his.
“I rented the office and apartment next door.” He motioned with his thumb across the hall.
I had to keep myself from doing a fist pump and yelling. “Really?” I continued fumbling with the envelope, hoping I appeared nonchalant. Jennifer stood in the same spot, a silly grin still plastered across her face.
“Yes, started moving in this evening.” He gave a devilish smile.
“What kind of business do you have?”
“I’m a psychiatrist,” he said in a sexy drawl.
He didn’t remind me of a psychiatrist. He wasn’t wearing a suit or smoking a pipe. He wore jeans and a faded blue t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders.
“Wow, that’s wonderful. What in the heck is this?” I held up the letter I’d just extracted from the envelope and squinted at Jennifer, forgetting my conversation with Jack.
“What does it say?” Jennifer finally pried her body from Jack’s side and dropped her giddy smile.
